


in the days when lands were few

by ImpishTubist



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Ineffable Godfathers, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), Noah's Ark
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-05
Updated: 2019-07-05
Packaged: 2020-06-13 00:45:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,001
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19588549
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ImpishTubist/pseuds/ImpishTubist
Summary: Crowley remembers each of their names.





	in the days when lands were few

**Author's Note:**

> Title comes from Queen's "'39".

Crowley remembers each of their names.

There had been thirteen in all. Thirteen children he’d managed to smuggle onto the Ark before the floodwaters overcame them; thirteen children he’d secured in a room that hadn’t existed on the ship before that moment. He kept them tucked away deep in the bowels of the vessel, down with the caged animals, away from prying eyes. The eldest had been fourteen, the youngest an infant. He remembers their faces, their names, the lilt of their voices. How quiet they’d been for those forty days and nights, unnaturally quiet, far quieter than human children ever were. 

He remembers their prayers--agonizing, desperate, unanswered. 

He remembers sneaking out of their room in the middle of the night to gather eggs from the chickens, to scavenge grasses and greens that were meant for the animals. He broke into the ship’s food stores as often as he dared, which was rare. He gathered fresh water from the rain buckets. He couldn’t risk too many demonic miracles to create food and fresh water, less Below catch wind of what he had done. He reasoned that the Almighty wanted those children dead, and as he was thwarting the Almighty’s plan, he didn’t need to justify himself to Beelzebub. But even so, he didn’t want Below to start asking questions he wasn’t ready to answer.

He remembers their warmth--of the infant tucked in the crook of his arm, of the children pressed around him as they slept. Their tangled hair, which he brushed, and their tear-streaked faces, which he wiped with his sleeve. He remembers their fright, so palpable he could taste it, and the weary relief when the rains stopped and the floodwaters receded. 

He found homes for them all, sneaking them off the ship one by one after Noah and his family and the animals had all departed. He watched over them through their too-brief lives, feeling each of their deaths like a blow. 

He remembers the infant, who died an old man at the age of fifty-two, in Crowley’s arms once again because he had outlived his wife and children and there was no one else. He remembers the feel of the dirt between his fingers as he dug the grave, and the rough stone he rolled in place as a marker. 

He remembers each of their names, reciting them in his mind like a litany as he watches Adam play outside. The rain clouds that rolled in after lunch are breaking up now, and through a gap in the trees, he can see the faint smudge of a rainbow smeared across the sky. Condensation beads on the kitchen window, and Crowley swipes it away with his sleeve. Adam tumbles in the garden, heedless of the mud as he wrestles with Dog.

Fourteen now, he could have been one of those children--only this time around, the child had saved Crowley. Had saved the entire world, and everything in it that made life worth living. 

“You’ve gone all pensive.” Aziraphale lays a hand on his back, between his wings, and waits.

“The rainbow was a promise,” Crowley says. “How long do you suppose that promise lasts?” 

“Forever, I should think.” 

Crowley fixes him with a weary look. Most days, Aziraphale’s unending optimism is refreshing, but he’s got no patience for it now.

“What happens when She decides to test humanity again?” he presses. “What happens when The Big One comes?” 

“We’re soldiers, dear,” Aziraphale says. “We do what we were created to do. We fight. For Adam, and for all the ones you weren’t able to save.”

Crowley closes his eyes. “You knew.” 

“Of course I knew. Who do you think kept Noah’s family from wandering too close?” Aziraphale brushes a lock of Crowley’s hair out of his eyes. He’s let it grow long in the years since the almost-Apocalypse, and the humidity makes it an unruly mass of red waves.

“They were kids, Aziraphale.”

“I know.” 

“I couldn’t save them all.”

“I know that, too.” 

“I won’t let it happen again,” Crowley says. “Whatever She’s got planned, whatever She has in store for humanity...that’s one line She doesn’t get to cross. I’ll defy even you, if I have to.”

“I expect nothing less.” Aziraphale takes his hand. “But we’re on our own side now, remember? Whatever She has planned, I want no part of it. All that matters is you, and all of this.” 

He waves a hand at their cottage, the garden, Adam, the world. Crowley laces their fingers together, and squeezes Aziraphale’s hand.

The back door bangs open, and Adam comes bounding in, Dog on his heels. He skids to a halt halfway to the refrigerator, a guilty expression crossing his features at once when he sees the two of them standing there. Crowley snorts at the mud he’s tracked in. 

“Nice try, young man,” Aziraphale says sternly. “Into the shower,  _ both  _ of you, and then you can come back for a snack.” 

“But Uncle Az, can’t you just…” Adam pleads, waving a hand through the air.

“Certainly not. You’re a human now, and we won’t be taking shortcuts.” 

Adam goes off, grumbling, and Aziraphale miracles away the mess once he hears the shower turn on. Crowley stifles a huff of amusement, wrestling it into a cough instead. Dog gives an indignant bark, there comes the sound of sloshing water, and suddenly the cottage is filled with Adam’s laughter. It’s a good sound, Crowley thinks, and he wishes he could recall it as easily as he can the cries of long-dead children. 

“I don’t know what the Almighty has in store for us,” Aziraphale says quietly, interrupting Crowley's wandering thoughts. “But I do know one thing--you won’t be alone this time.” 

Crowley pulls Aziraphale to him, wrapping him in a loose embrace, tucking his wings around the angel. 

“I wasn’t alone then, either,” he says into Aziraphale’s hair. “Thank you.”

Aziraphale tilts his face up for a kiss. He tastes like rain.

**Author's Note:**

> I just really appreciate that we all saw episode 3 and collectively decided that Crowley adopted a bunch of children and sheltered them on the Ark.


End file.
